mase is the RAPPER..

So last night, Alan was running around setting up some surprise for thursday, and he banished me to the bedroom, where I retired with a glass of wine and my book. At one point he needed to get in the bedroom, so he asked me to briefly shut my eyes.

I acquiesced, and ducked under the bathrobe, and listened to the hubs rustling around the dresser area. Suddenly, I heard what I THOUGHT for a split second was him spraying his deodorant. Then when he started screaming, I remembered the little tube of mace that was sitting on my dresser. 

As my eyes were closed, I don’t know how he did it. All I know is that my husband accidentally MACED HIMSELF in our bedroom. I rushed to the internet for the appropriate first aid, accidentally searched Mase the rapper (can’t stop ’til I see my name on a blimp… THANKS MTV), finally realized I’d spelled it wrong, and then ran back to the bedroom, pried his palms from his face and dunked his head under the sink. After that there was a good fifteen minute cacophony of screaming and vomiting noises while he stood in the shower under cold water, his clothes flung about the bathroom and hallway in a frenzy.

Once I realized he would be okay, I asked him if I could take a picture of the eye that got it the worst, but he said no, and I didn’t want to push it. Apparently I won’t know how this happened until Thursday, so I’ll keep you posted. But HOLY CRAP WHO DOES THAT? Oh and p.s., there’s pepper spray all over the mirror and dresser top.

This morning he still kinda looked like he got punched in the left eye. He says it was the worst pain he’s ever felt, and I believe him!

Today I will pick up my prescription, VOTE EARLY, and go to the gym. Yay!